Scratching The Surface
by Jewel3
Summary: I can't believe he's here.


Title: Scratching The Surface  
Author: Jewel  
Email: jewel_kaufman@hotmail.com  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be... Now there's a depressing thought. Song lyrics at the beginning are from the song "Fade" by Staind, as in, also not mine *g*.   
Feedback: Pretty please?  
Summary: "I can't believe he's here."  
Archive Rights: DDFH. Everyone else, ask and ye shall have.  
Notes: This is *kinda* a response to JenN's 'A Walk to Remember' challenge, except instead of the lines spoken by Logan and his child, I have them spoken by Logan and Marie... hope that's okay. This is the fourth fanfic I've ever written and the second one I've ever posted (I'll probably stop announcing numbers sooner or later *g*) but I've really been enjoying it. Thanks also to JenN for making this challenge, even though I went about it just a bit differently then you intended. :)  
Dedication: Thanks to Heather and Taryn for all their wonderful feedback, and thank you to everyone who gave me such sweet feedback on Not 'I Love You' as well.  
  
  
~I just needed someone to talk to  
You were just to busy with yourself  
You were never there for me  
To express how I felt  
I just stuffed it down  
Now I'm older and I feel like  
I could let some of this anger fade  
But it seems the surface I am scratching  
Is the bed that I have made...~  
  
  
I can't believe he's here.  
  
How does that quote go? 'Of all the bars in all the world...' or something like that anyways. I never did see that movie the whole way through, no matter what Kitty said about it.  
  
I can't believe he's here.  
  
He hasn't seen me yet, just sat down after fighting and hasn't had the chance to survey the new additions. Probably wouldn't recognize me even if he looked right at me - were it not for the tell-tale white streak in my hair, that is. That's gotta be the only thing that looks like it did when I saw him last, still bright and flashy, unlike the rest of me.  
  
I shouldn'ta stuck around. Came in, saw who was in the cage... shoulda left then. But no, I had to stick around to watch him fight. Shoulda left *then*... but no. Had to stay just a bit longer. Don't even know why really, not really. Maybe I just wanna see his reaction to the new 'me'.  
  
Not that she's all that new anymore.  
  
Not that he ever really knew the old me.  
  
I toss back another shot and feel his eyes on me before the glass even leaves my lips. The liquid burns as it goes down but I barely feel it. I barely feel anything anymore.  
  
I meet his gaze and calmly take in his shocked expression. ~Betcha never expected to see me, huh Logan? Six years makes a bit a'difference, don't it? Not with you though, you still look the same as last time I saw you. Not that I'm surprised.~  
  
I raise my eyebrows and push back from my seat, throwing down a few bills before the bartender can say a word and striding out the door without a backwards glance. He can follow if he wants, I don't care either way.  
  
I'm halfway to my truck before I hear his voice. "You runnin' again?" He calls, and I feel a bitter smirk lift my lips. He obviously got over that shock pretty quick.  
  
"Never stop." I throw back carelessly, not slowing my steps. That gives him a pause, I think. His steps falter and he's probably beginning to wonder if it's really me. Like he'd know either way.  
  
"Marie?" He asks, and I stop, blowing breath out angrily and watching it turn to mist in the chilling early morning air.  
  
"Rogue." I say, and I hear his boots crunching in the snow as he approaches again. His steps are cautious and the bitter smirk grows knowingly at the obvious confusion in his silence.  
  
I wait until I can feel him right behind me before turning around, and I ignore the shock that once again flits across his face before it's hidden behind his eyes. ~Didn't see that in the bar, didja? And with your senses? Tsk tsk.~ I think as I reach up to brush my hair behind my ear, uncovering the full length of the thin white scar that stretches down one side of my face. I never was as untouchable as I thought I was, not where it mattered, at least.  
  
"Somethin' ta say, sugar? I don't got all day." I finally say, not liking the way he just stares at me. He seems to come out of it at my words, though, and he takes another step forward.  
  
"What happened to ya?" He asks, lifting a hand as if to reach for me. I take a step back from him before he can and cross my arms over my chest.  
  
"Six years happened to me, Logan." I say, and I could swear he looks surprised for a moment before gesturing once again to the scar. "Sabertooth." I add with a sigh, allowing my hair to sweep back over the mark. The forever reminder that I'm just not cut out to be an X-Man. That thin white line was the least of my injuries on my first - and last - mission, but thankfully it's the only one that stayed.  
  
He's still staring at me and I'm getting annoyed again. "X-Men? Battle? Any of this ringing a bell there?" I ask, my hands sliding to my hips as I raise my eyebrows at him. A silent moment later and I've had enough of his intense gaze. "Look, just forget it. It was five years ago, I've gotten used to it. It's nothing."  
  
"It's not nothing, it's a scar." He says finally and I think if it were possible, my eyebrows would have taken flight. He's just catching up to this now?  
  
"Yeah? And your point being... what, exactly?" I challenge with a bravado I don't feel. I've had enough of this already, it's time to end it. I can feel emotions churning inside me that I thought were long buried, and that's just... it's *not* gonna happen. "C'mon Logan, time's passing by," I drawl, and it occurs to me to wonder for a moment if he'd even noticed the years flying by. I don't think I care either way, it doesn't change the end result.  
  
He grunts at that, and a shadow passes over his face too quickly for me to decipher it's meaning. When he finally speaks, it's almost a growl as one hand comes up and fingers the hair falling over my scar. "You shouldnta been fightin', Marie. They were supposed to take care of you."   
  
I just have no words for that.  
  
I can feel my whole body tense as I rear back from him, disbelief and anger plain on my face as I stare up at him in shock, "Why?" I ask him, betrayal writ in every syllable, "They never *promised* me anything."  
  
"They promised *me*!" He says fiercely, and a brittle, humourless laugh escapes my lips at the idea. This is almost too much.  
  
"Nice to know you cared so much," I bite out, tossing my hair over my shoulder once more, "Why should you expect others to keep their promises when you don't keep yours? I can take care of myself now, thank you." I mutter, turning on one heel and stalking off towards my truck as he calls after me.  
  
"Marie, don't walk away."  
  
"You taught me how." I toss back at him automatically, and his sharp intake of breath is almost hidden by the crunching sound my boots make in the snow. The words hurt him, I know. The silence that accompanies my next few steps makes that all too clear to me.  
  
"Listen, kid," he starts again, and that 'endearment' is just too much for me right now. Before he can get another word out, I've whirled around to face him, stomping towards him with murder in my eyes.  
  
"I am *not* a 'kid', Logan. I'm twenty-three fucking years old!" I exclaim in a burst of anger, pointing my finger at him as I stop inches away from his solid form, "*Look* at me, Logan. *Look* at me! Can't you see? *Can't* you...?" I ask, my voice taking on a slightly desperate quality as emotions I haven't felt in years start pouring out of me, running together as I face the man in front of me. "I haven't been a kid for a very long time. And I wasn't a kid when you met me, either. Or, at the *very* least, I wasn't by the time you left - or have you forgotten who I had in my head by then?" I demand, using 'had', not 'have' and wondering briefly if he'll notice.   
  
I don't bother to wait for a reaction before continuing my diatribe. The words are spilling from my lips of their own accord, leaving me helpless to stop them. And, in all honesty, I don't want to stop them. My whole body feels like it's on fire and for the first time in *years* it feels like I'm actually... *awake*.  
  
"You've been gone for *six* years, Logan! Six *years*! You said you'd be back for m-I thought you were coming back! But you never did. Not in the beginning, when I would switch between repeatedly hitting on Jean and telling Charles his was a child's dream. Not a year later when I went on my first mission and Sabertooth nearly ripped me to pieces. Not after that when I was dealing with the aftermath of yet *another* personality in my head I didn't want... Not any of those times. Not any of those times I *needed* you to be there." I yell, a little alarmed at the tears I feel gathering in my eyes, "You promised. You *promised* me! You said you'd take care of me and you said you'd come back but I guess as soon as you were outta there you forgot all 'bout that, huh? I saw your *soul*. I thought you... But I guess I was wrong, right? You didn't care at all."  
  
He doesn't know what to say to any of that, that much is perfectly clear to me. He'll have questions, I'm sure, when he's actually processed everything I've just said. Or maybe not, the him in my head always made it seem like he cared, but the him in the flesh proved that wasn't true a long time ago.  
  
I watch him struggle to take it all in and my jaw clenches as I catch his eyes sliding towards the door we both walked out of. My hands fall back to my hips as my eyes narrow at him, and I can't stop the next words from spilling out of my mouth.  
  
"You wanna go, Logan? Be my guest. I shoulda known it would be too much for you. Go on, take the easy way out. Go back to the bar and pick up your babe of the evening." I tell him with a brittle laugh, "I knew I got that from you."  
  
His eyes had narrowed at the first part, but now his whole being was focused on me intently, and when he spoke, it was a low growl that would've caused my whole body to tremble a few years ago, but now just made me draw myself up higher to face him. "What're you talkin' about, Marie?" He grits out dangerously, and I toss my hair over my shoulder with a flippant smile.  
  
"The old love'em and leave'em line, sugar. I guess the you in my head taught me all the steps to that particular dance."  
  
"Your skin-" He starts, and my eyes flash.  
  
"-has ways around it, if you're brave enough." I finish for him with a challenging glare. I don't tell him that there was only one man brave enough to try, and I put a stop to it before anything could happen. That I couldn't go through with it if I didn't care. Befriend'em and leave'em? Sure. Charm'em and leave'em? Everyday. But never love and leave. Even with all of him I've had in my head, I'm just not built like that. I don't work that way... and maybe that's a good thing.  
  
But he doesn't need to know.  
  
He's back to just looking at me again, and I'm really starting to hate it. "What happened to you?" He asks finally, and I'm caught off-guard by his strangled tone of voice.  
  
I can feel the tension seeping out of my body as I debate how to answer that question. There are honestly several possible answers I could go with, but in the end I know simplicity is the way to go.  
  
"Life happened to me, Logan." I say with a sigh, and just like that, the white hot, burning anger has left and I'm left with the familiar weariness that always follows. "I haven't been an innocent little girl for a very long time. Not since before you even met me. I'd been on the road for eight months when we found each other," I tell him, because I'm not sure he ever even knew, "And now I've been on it for four and a half years more. Life happened to me. Being on the road happened to me. Being abandoned by the man I l-... by the man I trusted, happened to me. Battling Sabertooth for my sanity happened to me-"  
  
"He touched you?" He interrupts, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer, almost as if he was searching for fingerprints on my skin. I yank my arm away and step back, raising my eyebrows in disbelief as I gesture to the scar.  
  
"How do you think he scratched up my face, Logan? With a long, pointy stick? Of course he touched me! Practically fucking mauled the life outta me, if you're so curious to know the details five years after the fact. Don't think he cared too much about the skin thing. He had a healing factor too, after all."  
  
The look on his face is just... indescribable right now. I have no idea what he's thinking, but I'm pretty sure I'm not liking it. He looks... He actually looks *shaken*, as if the news that I barely escaped death five friggin' years ago has rocked him to the very core. He doesn't... No. He doesn't get to do that. He doesn't have the right to feel that.  
  
"You have him in your head now, Marie?" He's asking as I tune back in, and his voice is so gentle now, with his hand coming up, about to glide through my hair...  
  
He *definitely* doesn't get to do *that*.  
  
"*Rogue*." I correct sharply, taking a quick step back from him. I'm dodging his touch now when one time, a million years ago, I would've given anything for it. "It's *Rogue* now, get it right. And no, I don't have him in my head now. Chuck helped me out, helped me find a way to get him out. Helped me find a way to get *everyone* out, so it could finally just be me up there again." I inform him pointedly, trying to ignore the almost wounded look he sends my way. I won't tell him, I won't tell him.  
  
I stare up at him now, and I can feel myself starting to get lost in the sadness in his eyes. The same sadness that I know, behind all the pain and anger, is also reflected in mine. It's so hard. It's *too* hard, and I don't know how to end this. I don't know how to walk away and leave everything unresolved.  
  
But at the same time... I don't know how to stay.  
  
"Life happened to me, Logan." I say again, with a sad smile and a little, thoughtless shrug. "What did you expect?"  
  
His gaze turns inwards then, and I know he's thinking about what I've said. "I dunno," He says finally, "But... not this. Not this, Ma-Rogue," He corrects when I tense up again. I can tell he hates calling me that, and I almost actually care. But only almost.  
  
"Yeah, well..." I sigh, shrugging a little before trailing off. I don't know what else to say to him. There aren't any words for my multitude of thoughts. So many things to say and I don't know how to say any of'em. "My life on my terms? Not so bad. I get by okay." I add finally, almost daring him to argue.  
  
"How?" He asks suspiciously and I just roll my eyes. If I couldn't cut it fighting for my life in one place, what makes him think I'd try to make a living that way?  
  
"I've got the best poker face in forty-six states, sugar." I drawl, my eyes flashing proudly, "And that's just because I ain't been to the other ones yet."  
  
He lets out a snort at that and I can tell he's amused, but it's the truth. It's what happens when you live with a flirtatious cardshark for over a year. The only way to get Remy to leave me alone was to beat his ass at his favourite game.  
  
I learned real quick after figuring that one out.  
  
"What's so funny?" I ask, raising my eyebrows again, "A game every coupla weeks, a coupla thousand every game. Get in, make friends and get gone before they do. I may do some stupid things sugar, but I never do'em twice." I finish and watch with something resembling regret as the mirth melts from his expression.  
  
We stare at each other in silence again, and I find myself once again at a loss. I shift my weight from one foot to the other and chew my lip as I try to think about the right thing to say before we part ways again. I know this time, it'll be for good. I know that even if we see each other again, we'll just keep walking. I know he never really cared, just as sure as I know how much I did... so what's there left to say?  
  
"I should go..." I say finally, looking over my shoulder towards where my truck is parked. "Think I'm finally gonna get around to Alaska this time," I continue, though now that I say it I can't remember ever telling him I wanted to go there. Ah well, he'll at least know which direction to avoid...  
  
"I'm going with you." He says and I whip back around in shock. He did not just say that.  
  
"Like hell you are!" I cry before I know what I'm saying. "You think you can just walk right back in and everything will be like it was before? Cuz it doesn't work that way, Logan!"  
  
"I know that!" He growls, and his hand is suddenly on my arm while he takes a deep breath, "Rogue," he starts again, without hesitation, and now he definitely has my attention. "I... I dunno what to do here. I don't have the magic words to make right what I obviously fucked up. All I know, is I wanna try. I know it's been years and you, you're different now, and you don't got me in your head to show you that I mean it, but... I wanna try."  
  
He stops then, and I can tell he's watching what he's just said sinking in to my head. I don't know if I can. I don't know if I can do it all over again. If he left again, told me he'd come back and never did... I don't know what to do.  
  
He must see the indecision on my face because the hand on my arm slides up to my shoulder and he gives me a look that is both light and serious at the same time, "If you don't like it, you can always kick me out..." He adds with a lopsided grin, the honesty of the statement shining in his eyes.  
  
I shrug out of his grip and cross my arms tighter in front of me. "You got five minutes to get your stuff and get to the truck or I'm leaving without you." I say without looking directly at him, turning and heading towards the vehicle in question before he can respond. He knows I mean it.  
  
I get to my truck and climb in, waiting impatiently as the seconds drag on. Soon enough, the time is up and I still can't see him. I deny the disappointment that embraces my heart and turn the key in the ignition just before a loud thunk sounds from the bed of the truck. I ignore it, putting the car in drive and start to lift my foot from the brake as the passenger side door opens and Logan climbs in to sit beside me.  
  
I must look curious because he winks at me and cocks his head in the direction of the truck bed, "Hadda put Scooter's bike somewhere." He explains, and I feel the corner of my mouth lift at the thought.  
  
"So... Alaska, huh?" He asks, and I just nod. I can see his expression turning solemn again and I've given up trying to guess what he's gonna say. "Marie? Uh, Rogue. Sorry. Rogue-?" He asks and I clear my throat, giving him a 'just get on with it' look. "Rogue?" He starts again, and I take my hands off the wheel as I look over at him, "You think... You think I can fix this?" He asks me, "You think I can make us okay, even after... everything?" He asks, and I turn away from him, staring straight ahead as I think about it.  
  
I can feel him still eyeing me intently, even as I fight to keep my expression blank. ~I won't tell him, I won't tell him.~ My mind whispers, echoing my earlier thoughts as I wonder if I should offer the one piece of hope I have to give.  
  
Finally, my hands slide up to grasp the steering wheel again, and I keep my gaze fixed on a point in front of me as I open my mouth. "I never got rid of you." I tell him quietly, my body unnaturally still as I speak, "Not even after I figured out how. You're still in my head." I finish with a calm voice, the only clue as to my inner emotional turmoil being the way my knuckles have turned white from my grasping the steering wheel so tightly.  
  
I wait for a response from him for what seems like forever, but it doesn't come. Taking a silent breath, I turn to face him, completely taken aback by the look of utter awe spread clear across his face.  
  
We stare at each other in silence for a moment, and strangely... I don't really mind it this time. Nothing and everything is said as we stare and though he's right, there isn't any magic fix to what's passed since he left Westchester, it's a start, and that's better than nothing.  
  
I take my foot off the brake and tear my eyes from his before pressing down lightly on the gas and for the first time in longer than I can remember, I find myself looking forward to seeing what the future holds. 


End file.
